Ongola Learns Defiance: Bryd's Rising Part 1

 

"Ongola!"

What did she want now? Is there nothing sacred to her? This was his time to explore the Bander Forest. He could smell his prey, just behind the waving weeds.

"It's supper time, ya little doof! We're having Sloppy Joes a la Mode!'

That was a heaping serving of ground turkey, resting atop a mound of mashed sweet potatoes. Dang! That was his favorite. Guess it was time to call a temporary truce in his gorki hunt.  

Ongola was last to the table. He was beaten out by his mother, his mother, his brother, and his sister. "Have you washed your hands?" asked his Ma.  

"Yes," Ongola lied.

He scooped a generous portion of mashed sweet potatoes, buttered it, and topped it with a dollop of honey. Then the seasoned ground turkey was added, so much that you could no longer see the sweet potato. Finally, he suirted on almost a thid of a bottle of ketchup. Some of the other family members added pickles and mustard. Pa even added some diced onions. Pa was weird.

"We need to go over what chores y'all are responsible for," Pa said, talking while he was still chewing. That made a pretty picture. "Some of y'all are getting pretty lax."

His brother, Kicker, was three years older than Ongola and waited politely until he finished chewing. Where those kind of manners came from in this family, Ongola wasn't sure. Not even Ma taught that. "You can be exhausting, Pa.  Did you just have us so you could exploit us for slave labor?"

"Nah," said Pa, still chewing, flecks of food going everywhere. "If that was the case, I would have a dozen of ya instead of just three."

The children laughed, but Ma did not. She turned pale, as if she couldn't keep her food down. Ongola felt like Ma thought that three difficult childbirths were enough for her, thank you very much.

"Don't mind Kicker, Pa," reassured Phoenix. "He fusses at everything. Just tell us what you want, I'm sure we can fit it in." Phoenix was the oldest, fifteen, struggling with the march through puberty toward adulthood.

Pa re-divvied out the chores, and the children reluctantly agreed. They knew they would do the best they could, but also knew they would be hearing this again in a couple of months. Pa was not a cruel taskmaster, and drifting from the ideal was inevitable.

There was a loud knock on the door. Pa got up and opened it, and there was the towering, blubberly figure of Constable Billy Wheat. With him was a man none in the house knew. He wasn't quite as tall as Constable Billy, but he was in much better shape. "This here is Knight Ezekiel Smith. We got a special message regarding your son, Kicker."

Well, this can't be good. You didn't want to do anything that would cause a Knight to visit you. They never have good news. 

"Well, Mr. Byrd, I must inform you of the trouble your son, Kicker, is causing at the Divine Kingdom School. He is repeating half-cracked-pot stories of godless communism. Where he's getting ideas like that in his head, we don't know. But we aim to find out."

"Well, he ain't getting them here. We don't cotton to such books here. We got the Holy Bible, and the Kingdom Guide to Greater Glory. That's it!" Pa said.

"At this point, we make no illusions about where he got those ideas. That's what we need to find out. To discover the truth, we need to take Kicker with us and bring him to the Young Followers Reeducation Camp."

Sweat dripped down Pa's face. "Now that ain't necessary, Mr. Knight, Sir. I'll get him straightened out toot sweet, you better believe it."

The Knight was stoic. Nothing could shake him. "We need to find out where he learned this heresy. We can only do that at the Camp. We need to be certain of the truth."

Pa pleaded. "No. You won't need to do that. He'll tell you right here and now. Tell 'em, Kicker. Where did you get these fool notions?"

Kicker didn't want to go with him, but there was no way he was throwing anyone else under the bus. "Can't say for sure. I think it was mostly osmosis."

The Knight scoffed. "You have raised a very sarcastic child, Mr. Byrd. Discussion time is over. Constable, take this wicked child away."

The constable grabbed Kicker by the arm. Ma threw herself at Kicker, trying to hold him back. "No!" she cried. "We're good people. You can't just take our son!"

"You need to teach your woman her place in the hierarchy," the Knight said. 

They left with Kicker. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth.  

A fire of defiance built in Ongola's heart. Somehow, some way, he was going to get his brother back.

'

The Clean-up Urge - Rose Aldridge Column #7

I continue to experiment with the visual quality of the columns. We found where Rose had stored the first year of newspapers in which her columns appeared, and this image is from those papers. It should eliminate the crease problem for a while. I have also experimented with a scan app that is on my phone, but I have not yet successfully figured out how to get those to my desktop. I'll keep trying.

 

This is a common theme that will run through many of her columns. I can't say what it was like while she was younger, with a husband and raising Alison. My own observations were that, when I would see her home from 1996 on, cleaning ... was not the highest priority. But it wasn't unlivable. When she lost a lot of mobility in the last few years, problems would increase, but she did get a maid service.

I don't really like things too messy. On the other hand, I like places to look 'lived in' - not sterile. The recent trend against having books in your house seems insane to me. Books are the identifying soul of a household. 

It's terribly easy to let your mind be consumed by obsessive cleaning, pristine yardwork, polished cars, or anything that takes up so much of your time that you can't stop to smell the roses.

Of course, it's always good to have things clean enough to smell them.

Quick! Who's Your Best Friend?

Quick! Who's your best friend?

 Scout and Gemma have no trouble answering. True, they are the only two cats in our household, but I'm still happy they have bonded. 

The only other pet in the household is Pixie, who has no interest in them. Pixie's best friend is Alison. Pixie basically ignores the cats unless they seem to compete for Alison's attention. Then he turns into a lunging Snarllagaphalious. Pixie has no teeth, and doesn't realize her threats are ... toothless.

Alison has no trouble identifying her best friend. She has reestablished her connection to her childhood friend, Cheryl. They share friend groups and hobbies, and they see each other several times a week.

It made me wonder, though. Who is my best friend?

So I asked Alison, "Quick! Who is my best friend?"

Her answer was swift and direct - "Me."

That is true. She has been my best friend for over thirty years now. Our 30th wedding anniversary will be this November 9th.

But- thinking beyond the scope of marriage and loving spouse, who is my best friend?

I have none. And haven't for quite a while.

Most of my friendships come from the moment, within specific environments or events. I was friendly with work associates, but little that extended past work. I am friendly to many of my fellow parishioners at church, but nothing that extends much past church events.

I have made many friends while in community productions. But only rarely have any of those friendships extended beyond the production's closing.

And now, I rarely do plays anymore. I have found a disconnect due to age. I am usually the oldest person in the cast, sometimes as much as 20 years older than the next-oldest cast member. Doing fewer plays also means I am not as tightly bonded with many of the more frequent performers. Many of them also come from the same church.

I have no close friends from high school, college, or other places I lived. They have all faded away.

I did have a best friend through high school. We went to separate colleges and did not reunite until after college, when he had moved to Atlanta and was preparing to be a pastor in the United Methodist Church, studying theology at Emory University. I came down to visit him and soon moved myself, marrying his girlfriend's best friend. 

We drifted apart when he moved back to Michigan to pastor a church there. For the last three decades, I have lost contact with him.

I'm not writing any of this for sympathy. As it goes - "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina!"* Most of this is rooted in my own personality. I am an introvert who craves some contact but is also often content with my own life, hobbies, and interests. I certainly steer away from social events that would leave me anxious and paralyzed.

Although not necessarily best friends, I have had as many female friends as male friends. I like group activities that are mixed - that have both sexes in them, such as the plays, some church activities, and the library Thriller Book Club. The conversations in these groups are more blended. All-male groups tend to talk about college football, golf, and right-wing politics, much more than I can stomach listening to. All-female groups broach in-depth topics like childbirth, appearances, sharper gossip, and complaints about men. Yes, those are broad stereotypes - they're not always true.

Since I don't truly have a best friend (outside of family), I have to be careful not to overestimate how close I am to people or overshare. Nobody is that interested in micro-comments about my health, my politics, or my attitudes about things like tattoos and piercings. Sometimes, when you share your thoughts with someone you don't know well, you may say something that doesn't match their experience. My thoughts on suicide and suicide attempts may run counter to other people, especially if I don't know their background or their own experiences.

But I digress too much. I love my readers, but they are not my best friends either. Social media can trick us that way.

Still, it does help me to write my thoughts, and I appreciate all who have read them, new and long-time readers, both.

Until nest time.

T. M. Strait

AOC '28

*Speaking of Madonna, she is only roughly three years younger than me. She was in a high school in a nearby town, one I had a speech contest in when she was a freshman. Can you imagine me in a friendship with Madonna? There's a twisted road not taken!

We're nominated for 'Parents of the Year' - Rose Aldridge Column #6

 I'm going to have to do this one slightly differently. My sources are Blackshear Times columns found at the library. Sometimes, the columns are on the crease of the paper, and you can't flatten the volume enough to see all the words. So, for this one, I'm going to need to retype the first column of print. I'm going to have to intuit some of the missing words, so if I get it wrong, it's clearly my fault.

We're Nominated for Parents of the Year

    Johnny and I should be getting our nominations for the "Parents of the Year" award any day now, thanks to our actions at the time of the accident.

    What accident? For the one that put Alison's arm in a cast, up past her elbow, of course.

    The one that happened because she didn't tie her shoelace, which got caught in her bike pedal and landed her on the pavement.

    Yes, we're sure winners for the award, because of our cool-headed control over the whole situation.

    How much more cool-headed can you be than we were- we didn't believe anything was wrong with her until she started crying in the middle of the night.

    So, as a result, her arm wasn't set until the next day.

And now, we return to normal transmission - 

Well, Alison was not alone. I received a similar injury around the same age as Alison, maybe a little younger; a kid pushed me out of our garage window. This may have been all of a whopping three feet off the ground, but I instinctively braced myself with my arm. This turned out to be a very bad plan.

I was outside, screaming in pain. My parents, both inside the house, just thought, "Well, there's Tom, screaming his head off over nothing again!"  That is, until my Dad happened to glance outside and see my arm dangling at the point halfway between my wrist and elbow.

My broken arm was not as easy to dismiss as Alison's, so I did get taken to the hospital fairly quickly. So, Alison and I can bond over our childhood broken arms.

If you think that's an interesting coincidence, wait until you hear about our son, Benjamin! 

2026 Fall TV Endurance Champs

  I used to extensively preview the Fall TV schedule, with a separate blog post for each day of the week.

Those days are gone.

TV is way too diffuse now. With streaming services and new shows being introduced year-round, it's hard to organize a real preview.

So, this year, I want to note which broadcast TV shows are endurance winners - those TV shows that have been on the air for the most seasons.

Breaking down by category:

SPORTS

1) Monday Night Football            37 Seasons

Reality Competitions

1) Survivor                                       51 Seasons

2) The Amazing Race                      39 Seasons

3) Dancing With the Stars              35 Seasons

Many of the shows benefit from presenting more than one season per year. Our household favorite has been The Amazing Race. Over the years, Alison and I have gone from "maybe we should enter" to "well, we couldn't do that challenge" to "maybe we could just go along and help host Phil with the craft table."

News/True Crime

  1) 60 Minutes                            59 Seasons

  2) 20/20                                      50 Seasons

  3) 48 Hours                               40 Seasons

This category includes true crime because these shows USED to be investigative journalism, but they are now focusing more and more on lurid true-crime stories. The last holdout was 60 Minutes, which recently had to bow to the Fascist-In-Chief and their MAGA-friendly corporate overlords. Investigative journalism is a fundamental part of true democracy and freedom, and it is hard to see it disappearing.

2026 Update: The takeover of 60 Minutes by far-right extremists renders it useless as having any reliable investigative journalism content. It's hard to justify calling it Season 59 this year, since it no longer exists in any recognizable form.

Animated

1) The Simpsons                         38 Seasons

2) Family Guy                            24 Seasons

3) Bob's Burgers                        17 Seasons

Animated programs can show a lot of endurance, as the "actors" don't age, nor demand phat new contracts.

It may be the harbinger of things to come, as we may soon see "AI actors."

Bob's Burgers and The Family Guy are not on the Fall Schedule, but are not canceled, and will have new seasons in the Winter. Because of that, I am keeping them on the list.

Scripted

1) Law & Order: SVU                           28 Seasons

2) Law & Order                                     26 Seasons

3) NCIS                                                   24 Seasons

4) Grey's Anatomy                                 23 Seasons

5) Chicago Fire                                       15 Seasons

It's interesting that Law& Order: SVU has more seasons than the mothership that spawned it, Law & Order. That's in part because it was returned in what is one of the most popular ways to preserve scripted television - the theme night. An entire evening centered on related shows. The Chicago Wednesday night and the Law & Order Thursday are current prime examples. There have also been nights centered around NCIS and 9-1-1. The truly unique shows are getting smaller and smaller space.

The structure of these shows allows them to survive cast changes, as the shows are centered on themes rather than personalities. Special shoutout to Mariska Hargitay for being in all 602 episodes of Law & Order: SVU.

I don't watch any of these shows. We did watch the original CSI program set in Las Vegas, but it, alas, is now gone.

At one time, maybe back in the 90s, I watched some episodes of Law & Order. But they were hard to keep straight. I'd have one on for about a minute, and Alison would say, "Tom, you've already seen that one"

We do watch Ghosts (Season 6), Matlock (Season 3), and The Rookie (Season 9), all of which do not premiere until 2027. We have watched Elsbeth (Season 4), but I'm not sure we'll continue. She knows who did it far too early, and saps some of the fun out of it. We watch some of the reality competitions.

The CW is omitted because it has fallen into obscurity and has not reported much yet. Penn & Teller: Fool Us may soon start their 13th season.

The CW, in general, is completely off my radar since they stopped the Arrowverse/DC superhero shows.

In general, the decline of scripted shows on broadcast TV continues. Only 34% of primetime hours are now scripted (including animated shows). Last year was 46%. That may not mean a whole lot to most of you, but as part of Generation Late Boomer (now called Generation Jones), I miss that wonderful plethora of primetime scripted shows, everything from the absurdity of My Mother the Car, to the wonders of Star Trek: from the sharp social comedies like All in the Family, to the weirdness of The Addams Family; from the jiggling detectives of Charlie's Angels, to the place with the highest murder rate in the world, Cabot Cove of Murder She Wrote.

Oh, well. I'll look forward to the next episode of Lanterns on HBO Max (or whatever it's called now).

It's the Time of Year for "Beach Fever" - Rose Aldridge Column #5

 

I made a special trip to the library to retake the columns using the library's scanning feature instead of my phone camera.  Well, I failed to do that - at least, I can't find the file anymore.  But don't give up on me.  I'm still working on it.

To the best of my memory, Alison and I did not take a beach trip with Rose.  Most trips centered on antique shopping or on seeing Benjamin (during college and professional years).

My own experiences with beaches were similar to Rose's.  The first time I went to a Florida beach was at 17, when we took our last family trip (before college years) to see the then-new Disney World, followed by a trip to Daytona Beach. I sorely disappointed my mother and sister by buying a bunch of comics, and then reading them in the motel room while they went on the beach. I didn't see the problem.  They had fun.  I had fun. What's the big deal?

Most of my subsequent appearances on any beach were with the purpose of making sure my children didn't drown. In that effort, I was successful.

One Science Crisis After Another!

 

There are a lot of different kinds of science fiction. It represents a broad playground for the human imagination and a wide range of structures and plotlines.

One of the most often used frames, particularly in hard SF, is the framing of one scientific crisis after another. A seemingly insurmountable problem faces the protagonists, and they must use quick scientific ingenuity to resolve it. Only to find that after that crisis is solved, they are soon faced by another one!

The book, Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir, and the subsequent movie use this to great effect. Every time it looks like science teacher Ryland Grace and his alien friend have figured out a solution to deliver a much-needed microbe to save both their planets, something new and unanticipated will pop up to throw them off course. But together they solve each problem that comes up.

Another example of this is the 1966 film, Fantastic Voyage. I recently watched this as part of the 100 Best Science Fiction Movies of the 20th Century series I have been blogging*. It's not in the same league as Project Hail Mary (especially in terms of compelling characters and deeper emotional resonance). A team is miniaturized and sent into a man's body to eliminate a tumor that is affecting the man's ability to remember vital information. More far-fetched than Project Hail Mary, it nevertheless faces one unexpected problem after another. They are also under time pressure - 60 minutes and they start enlarging again.

One Science Crisis After Another!

What if we were faced with these in real life?

The record of our ability to handle it is mixed, at best.

We really should not have enough food to feed the many billions of people on the planet. But thanks to the Green Revolution of the mid-twentieth century, we were able to feed far more people than we otherwise would have.

The ozone layer in our atmosphere was developing holes. It was in danger of disappearing, but through international efforts, we were able to reduce the emissions of ozone-depleting chemicals, and the problem has been checked and reversed.

Through the efforts of Dr. Fauci and many others, we were able to develop a vaccine to greatly reduce COVID-19's harm in record time.

But science can't solve everything.

It can't solve how incredibly stupid some of us are.

Many science-based efforts to reduce COVID-19 were rejected by a stubborn and ignorant populace, particularly here in the USA. There were many, many, many unnecessary deaths because people refused to mask up, socially distance, or take the vaccine.

The biggest example is our reaction to global warming/climate change. Climate scientists know many ways we can mitigate the greatest harms caused by man-made climate change. But the most important nation on Earth has leaders who refuse to acknowledge this. Instead, they are galloping in the opposite direction.

Many in this country are more disturbed when the price of gas rises a dime than when the use of fossil fuels accelerates global temperature rise.

Scientists can come up with all the solutions in the world, but they mean nothing if we choose to ignore them.

Imagine if MAGA had been in charge of Project Hail Mary, or the micronauts inside a man's body. There would have been no solar system-saving microbe brought back, and that man's body in Fantastic Voyage would have just exploded.

Our one sience crisis after another is TRUMPed by our one MAGA crisis after another.

Our best minds are being silenced by our worst minds.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

AOC '28

*please see my blog series Top 100 Sci-Fi Movies of the 20th Century. labeled Top 100 SciFi. Fantastic Voyage is No. 42. I am currently stuck on No. 40 - the 1966 movie Fahrenheit 451. I'm having a lot of trouble accessing it. It's like it just burned up or something.

Opening Doors

 

I can't figure it out.

I can't see where we're going.

Every door I try to open only leads to more misery.

There is a way through this maze.  I swear it.  But they are like the eye of the needle, and no one let go of enough greed to allow them to pass.

Every citizen should be able to vote, but we only make it harder.

We should be able to mitigate and reverse climate change, but instead, we only go through the doors that accelerate it.

We should be able to increase our life expectancy, but instead we shrink it by rejecting science - vaccines, food inspections, universal healthcare -those paths they want closed.

I try and try to open the doors to a more beautiful existence, to bring the Kingdom of God closer to Earth, but I can't get them open.  They require more strength than just my own.

Help me open the right doors.

Please.

While we still have enough light to see.

Young Again for at Least One Weekend! Rose Aldridge Column #4

 

Again, I apologize to those without enlarging rays.  I'm continuing to work on solutions.

13 hours in Disney World would be enough to wear anyone out.

After taking Benjamin to Disney World, Universal, and SeaWorld (all different trips), Alison and I decided to swear off amusement parks.

But when Doug called and wanted us to go to California and accompany my one-and-only grandchild to Disneyland.  It took only milliseconds for us to disavow our avowal.

My favorite memory of Disney World did not occur at the park.  When Benjamin was five or so, we went to Orlando and were ready to go to the park on Monday.  Only a hurricane came through, and the park decided not to open on Monday. 

We did not know what to do with our planned day at Disney World.  We found an open flea market, and Benjamin found a Pokémon board game.  It was fun and easy to play.  It began a lifelong passion for collectible card games, board games, and role-playing games like Dungeons & Dragons.

And to think, none of that might have happened had Disney World been open that day.

Say My Name!

 

 Many children go through a phase where they like to write their name on EVERYTHING.

With all due apologies to my sister for calling her out, she went through a phase where she did it. CAROL on her toys, CAROL written down on all her papers and books, CAROL on her clothes, CAROL written on paper in different forms and styles, CAROL inked on her body (not permanently, of course, - this was the 60s, and she was early elementary).

I didn't go through that. I looked at what she was doing and thought it was silly, borderline obsessive, and a bit narcissistic. But, heck, she was just a child. I was probably the weird one for not doing it.

And, yes, she did grow out of it.

Once in a while, however, we do run across someone who never grows out of it. Someone who insists on slapping their name on everything. 

Guess who that is?

They have 'branding' as their number one asset.

And it's getting as obnoxious as all get out.

Can there be anything more narcissistic and borderline evil than wanting to slap your name alongside a beloved assassinated president's on a performing arts center that you really have nothing to do with?

Imagine wanting to change the planned renaming of an aircraft carrier from black Naval World War II hero Doris Miller to Trump.

Sticking your face on money, passports, airports. Is there anyone who doesn't think the ballroom will be called the Trump Ballroom? The Trump Arch?  

He hates Obamacare. If he could eliminate that program, and recreate it exactly as it was, but call it Trumpcare, he would be the happiest camper on Earth.

Trump Accounts. Trump tariffs. Trump Steaks. Trump casinos. Trump University. Trump Tower. Trump, Trump, Trump.

He honestly thinks the more he sees his name, the more popular he is. The longer his legacy will endure.

But he's just a child. An 80-year-old man-baby.

There is very little left from my sister's name-writing stage. The toys and notebooks are gone. The name on her skin has washed away. But that is okay. Because that phase has long been over, and she knows who she is, and doesn't have to have her name everywhere for those who love her to know what a special woman, mother, and grandmother she is.

Give it time.

All this coloring his name on everything will quickly wash away once he is gone. Because, unlike my sister, he has not built a mature legacy- very few will love or remember him. And no matter how much he tries to scrawl his name over everything, that fact won't change.

I can't wait.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

AOC '28

Disregard the Obsessed Sycophant Behind the Curtain!

 I don't care bout Natalie Harp.

As a Christian, I care about her as a person. But as to whatever's happening between her and the orange clown, I don't much care.

Yes, it's a concern because she is close enough to the Narcissist-in-chief to be filtering what he sees and bases his impulsive decisions on. Yes, for all I know, she may be a foreign spy of some sort, especially since she resisted having a security check for so long. Yes, that bag may be full of diapers. I don't know, and I don't much care.

Is this affecting his purchased relationship with Melania?  I doubt it.  But in the words on the back of Melania's jacket - "I REALLY DON'T CARE - DO U?"

Is anyone surprised by this? Does anything not fit the profile of this serial adulterer and someone who wants to be surrounded by sycophantic loyalists?

She is a symptom of what is rotten in Trump World, but she is not central to what is happening in the everyday lives of American citizens and, really, people all around the world.

We're concerned about the soaring cost of goods and services - groceries, gas, housing, education, medical care. We're smart enough to see that a candidate who ran on affordability is now disavowing the word and calling it a 'Dumbocrat Hoax'.

We can see with our own eyes and brains that the 'no new wars' candidate has charged America into a new forever war, one that is stupid, purposeless, and unwinnable. We've destabilized the entire planet because our moronic leader was led by the nose into a conflict all other presidents were smart enough to tell Netanyahu NO,

Global warming leading to dangerous climate change is ruining our future faster than ever before, and what does our fear-filled nincompoop do? Doubles and triples down on fossil fuels, slaughters wild horses, opens our national parks to destructive development, and deregulates the EPA, gleefully turning his back on reason and science. What does he care what happens as long as he and his family accumulate billions and live like royalty?

Americans are quickly learning the dark side of deregulation as more and more products once considered safe are now dangerous. Our food supply is contaminated, AI Data Centers are stripping us of water and power, and diseases once defeated are surging back.  

The right to vote is being challenged, unless you're white and live in the right area. ICE, surveillance, and Flock cameras are coming for you all, noncitizen and citizen alike.

Our media is increasingly in fewer and fewer hands, and those billionaire hands are streaked with the fecalness of the Trump administration. 

Separation of church and state is now a fiction, as the reich-wing Chrustians are intruding into public schools and destroying/neutering public libraries. We're a Christian nation? Really? Which version of Christianity are we? Because the version that is taking hold is about as far away from anything I recognize as Christianity as you can get.

So, do I care about Natalie Harp?

Not really, no.

Maybe she'll help take him down. But I doubt it.

We have to stop counting on other people. It has to be you and me. Especially if you've supported him in the past. His popularity needs to tumble further. The candidates he endorses must lose, and lose badly. 

Toto is pulling back the curtain. You must see what's really happening.

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain? PAY EVERY ATTENTION TO HIM, and don't overthink the obsessed sycophantic nursemaid standing back there with him.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

AOC '28

Choosing the Right Sacrifice is a Task: Rose Aldridge Column #3

 This is Rose's third column, from March 4, 1982.  It presents what sacrifices to make during Lent.  At this time, Rose was a member of Blackshear Presbyterian.  Later, with Grace Episcopal, Lent would become even more prominent.

It's always hard with Lent, trying to balance something that will be a sacrifice, but not in a criplling way. When I was working as a CPA, I wanted to give up tax returns for Lent, but that really didn't fit.  So, it usually wound up being some sacrifice of social media and/or certain foods.  I also interpreted it as doing something more, whether charity or Bible/devotioanl reading,

I'm continuing to work on the presentation of these columns.  Right now, they're not really readable unless you enlarge them, which, based on last week's, many of you can do.  But I know that is still leaving many of you out, so I will continue to work on it.

Today is Rose's birthday.  She would have turned 77.  We're doing our best to remember the good times.

We miss her dearly.

Skating Near the Abyss

 

We are skating on the abyss. Every day seems like one where it could crack, and we get dragged under.

Some things happen that make one hope that we will avoid the freezing abyss, where democracy ends, where our fragile hold on this planet erodes, where love and charity and hope are dragged under and drowned by hate, intolerance, and fascism. 

No one can listen to a speech from Senator Jon Ossoff and not hope there is a way out. His rhetoric crushes the illusion of Trumpism, and we most clearly see the petty narcissist behind the curtain.

Many times our beleaguered court system holds as a bulwark against some of the most egregious edicts of Trump. Not always. Judge shopping is a favorite Trump sport. Sometimes, though, they put a stop to or slow some truly heinous stuff. I am very impressed by a Judge who halted the disastrous ballroom by the most common-sense ruling - the White House is OUR house, not his. He is merely a short-term tenant, and only Congress can approve these idiotic projects.

And it continues that anything he touches turns to crap, like the National Mall's State Fair disaster, the brutally stupid and nonsensical Trump Hunger Games, and the destruction of the Reflecting Pool.

His popularity is in the low 30s. Should it be lower? Absolutely! But our media is dominated by reich-wing voices, and that is a hard filter to get through.

It has been inspiring to see so many progressives emerge from the Democratic Party primaries. It is a process, though. Some of those candidates will win. Some will lose. But I am convinced that if we have any hope of surviving, they represent the future.

But many other things are occurring that make me fear we will not make it off the ice.

The Iran War dribbles on, rudderless and purposeless, destroying our standing in the world and only increasing Iran's power. The conditions aboard a navy vessel, the USS Abraham Lincoln, are pooh-pooed and denied, coldly saying that their extended mission is not too long yet, not nearly long enough.

Inflation persists due to the war and to his tariffs.

Deregulation and vaccine-deniers have destabilized the medical system and caused a noticeable uptick in diseases once defeated, like measles, and in uninspected foods, leading to things like an avalanche of explosive diarrhea. 

Many are harassed and endangered by ICE, undocumented immigrants and documented immigrants alike, and also include citizens as well. No one is safe from their reign of terror.

He continues to dance with the devil (dictators throughout the world). Just yesterday, he proclaimed his love for North Korea over South Korea. I cannot even fathom that, and what it might lead to.

He continues to threaten that IMPERIAL America will take over and subsume vast swaths of the planet - Canada, Cuba, Greenland, Mexico, the Straits of Hormuz. It never ends.

We are no longer trying to stop or mitigate global warming*, and instead accelerating it. The rise in average temperature is undeniable, and its effects are already felt. All life on Earth will be negatively affected. We are running out of time.

He is making it clear that he will dismantle and RIG our electoral system, and if that doesn't work, he will void the elections and declare martial law. We still have some who think he won't go that far. I'm not one of them.

We continue to see his health deteriorate, both physical and mental. Impeachment and the 25th Amendment should have been used months ago. But the Republican Party, the same Party that forced out Nixon, continues its shameful, cowardly dissent into subservience to fascism.

The ice we are skating on is getting increasingly fragile. We are at risk of falling in and never coming back out.

I have no magic answers as to how we get out of this.  

We can only hold on to everything we can, and pray and hope that a better time will come.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

AOC '28

* I know that many are using the alternative term climate change in the hopes it may placate some deniers. I do recognize climate change as a threat, but it stems from global warming - as the Earth warms, it leads to more and more destabilization of climate and weather - increasingly violent storms, including changes in precipitation, leading to drought in some places and deluges of rain and/or snow in other places. And yes, this is primarily a man-made phenomenon.

Some views on living in a small town: Rose Aldridge Column #2

 

This is Rose Aldridge's second column, appearing in The Blackshear Times on February 28th, 1982.

I find it difficult to read at this size, but I've been told that some people can enlarge it so they can read it. That might be true for my mobile phone users, but I'm less sure about my desktop readers.

Please let me know if you find it readable or not.  

I'll keep searching for alternatives.

Thanks,

T. M. Strait

Lunch With the Telly

 Yeah. I watch TV. DEAL.

Many (not all)* of my generation were the first TV generation. With multiple channels (sometimes as many as FIVE!), the rise of prime time, local shows from Afternoon movies to children's shows like Bozo or jumping Kenny Rogers, Saturday Morning Cartoons, and the advent of LIVING COLOR, TV was spectacular! Especially for an imaginative introvert like me.

Now that I am retired (for the most part) and with dozens of channels and streaming services, I could turn to an Ursula with a remote.

But I haven't. I still have my prime time habit. The big difference is I no longer have to be at the TV at a set time, or I miss the show. I don't even have to record a show on a VHS tape (like I often had to do with Buffy). I can call up any of tens of thousands of programs when I'm ready to watch.

During the rest of the day, there is not much. I used to watch morning news, but they've all been swallowed by right-wing media moguls, blathering far-right talking points. Even MSNOW has the interminably awful Joe Scarborough.

About the only thing in the daytime now is an occasional soccer game.

And, of course, my lunch program.

I'm a den eater. I like to eat while watching something. Particularly when it's just me. So, I have my lunchtime program.

I rotate between watching three programs. They change over time, as I complete different series. These are the three I'm rotating between now -

Smallville, which I am currently in Season 9, is part of a broader Superman re-watch that I have been doing for several years. I started with the Max Fleischer cartoons of the forties and have been moving forward chronologically. This includes movies (Christopher Reeve Superman), cartoons (Superman: The Animated Series), and TV shows (The Adventures of Superman)**

Currently, Season 9 puts me in 2009 of my re-watch. I like Smallville. Tom Welling does a good job of portraying a young Clark Kent. Erica Durance is outstanding as Lois Lane, capturing her wise-cracking intensity and bold spirit.

Sometimes the storylines are repetitive, focusing too much on characters being possessed so that the actors can present a different personality. And the WB network made teenage angst a specialty. But over the years, they presented a good number of characters from the DC comics. Green Arrow is portrayed by Justin Hartley, who went on to some minor series like This Is Us and Tracker.

I usually watch half a season at a time, one episode each lunch hour.

After that, the next one in rotation is -

The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, filling my mystery/anthology slot.

Before this, I watched Alfred Hitchcock Presents, a half-hour anthology that ran seven seasons. Any anthology series will have a mix of really great episodes with some meh episodes. It's amazing how many spouses wanted to kill each other.

For someone of my age, seeing some of the actors I recognize from that time is fascinating. Some are in their pre-movie star phase, such as Robert Redford.

I usually watch six episodes before rotating to -

The Avengers, filling my spy/SCiFi slot.

I'm in season 3, and Emman Peel isn't even in it yet. John Steed's partner is Honor Blackman, who played the Bond girl, Pussy Galore, in Goldfinger.

The episodes are ok, in black and white, with cheap sets. Sometimes the episodes are suggestive of what's to come as it veers more into camp and sci-fi. I'm patient, though. We'll get there.

Earlier this slot was filled with The Man From U.N.C.L.E, a favorite from my youth. I still have Season 4 to see, but I have to buy that. It's not accessible any other way.

This is all courtesy of the power of streaming.  

Happy viewing - whatever your cup of tea and crumpet!

**I mean, all of that generation were in that TV era - just not all became as absorbed in it as I did. In fourth grade, some of my classmates proclaimed loudly that they NEVER watched TV.  Then those same classmates did a skit in class based on The Jack Parr show (the forerunner to Johnny Carson). At the time, I didn't even know who the hell that was.

* Those mentioned are just examples of each category.  There are a number of others, such as The Adventures of Lois & Clark, where Dean Cain, the far-right extremist and short-lived ICE agent, plays Superman.  To be fair, I did not know that when the show was originally on.

MAGA in the Upside Down: Saturday Political Soap Box 306

 

First, we had to read the book. Alison read it. Then I finished it a few days ago. So, last night, we finally watched it.

Project Hail Mary.

It was excellent. Very worth the wait. Yes, it was slightly different than the book, but not in any way that took away from it.

A recent Academy Winner (which I am pretty sure Project Hail Mary will be joining that rank) was One Battle After Another. Thinking of that title made me realize that Project Hail Mary is...One Scientific Crisis After Another!

And that's true to the way science is. It's not a straight line. It's discovery and exploration, trial and error, solving and evolving. Every discovery leads to a new set of questions to resolve.

Our handling of COVID-19 was like that. As we gained more experience with what we were dealing with, the advice to handle it became more precise and refined.

Compared to other pandemics, the science progressed fairly rapidly. And that was in large part due to a man who had devoted his life to analyzing infectious diseases, Dr. Anthony Fauci.

Millions of lives were saved because of the hard work of Dr. Fauci and many scientists and health care workers.

But we can't leave that alone, can we?

History has to be revised by fools like Senator Rand Paul, the orange conman, and an army of misled MAGidiots.

It was masking, social distancing, and eventually the vaccine that mitigated the extent of the Pandemic. As new information and discoveries emerged, scientists would refine their advice (e.g., how the virus spread less effectively outdoors).

America had a higher casualty number than virtually all other nations, but it DEFINITELY wasn't because of Dr. Fauci. It was MAGA didn't want to mask up. They didn't want to social distance. They refused to vaccinate. They didn't care who else they infected, because it impinged their own rights. Personal "freedoms" mattered more than human life.

This is evidenced by the fact that MAGA red counties had the highest death rates, especially during the time that the vaccine was available.

Last week Senator Paul led a committee whose sole purpose was to denigrate Dr. Fauci and use an unearthed PRIVATE diary to catch Dr. Fauci in a contradiction that could be used to accuse og him of perjury and send him to jail.

MAGA and Paul were trying to put us in the Upside Down. They were trying to turn the heroes into villains and the villains into heroes.

Disgusting.

We are now living in a time when diseases that were under control, like measles, are now roaring back, when lettuce has become feared because it may contain cyclosporiasis, when the corporations' right to pollute supercedes our right to be safe, when the Depatrment of Health and Human Services is led by an anti-vaxxer who swims in raw sewage, eats road kill, and drinks raw milk.

And what happens if the next pandemic hits while this parade of fools reigns?

God help us all.

We are so far from the cooperative, inquisitive, evolving science of Dr. Fauci and Project Hail Mary that it makes me weep.

T. M. Strait

AOC '28

Another Round of Inspire Me

 

One of the things that has lagged, as I slowly try to get back in the habit of writing, is fiction.

I don't know why.

Twice winning runner-up in the Mysterious Photo flash fiction contest in the Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine has inspired me. Still, the fact that the magazine has not published a printed magazine since February has diminished that source of inspiration.

To hopefully re-inspire, I am going back to a writing exercise that I have used on here several times - the InspireMe app that brings up three random words to build a flash story around.

So, here we go!

Court, Key, Substance

"Don't be late for your court date," Wally warned. "They could throw your junk back into the trunk!" I think Wally meant county lockup, but I wasn't always sure with Wally. He wasn't always clear, but he was the best lawyer I could afford. Which was free, as we were childhood chums.

"The key to your freedom is your confession," the coppers had urged. They lied. What a surprise! Now I had to recant and hope for the best.

I wasn't late, but I'm not sure it helped much. Despite Wally's inept description of the substance of the case, there was a book, and the Judge tossed it at me.

Well, heckers. I guess I should have never thrown a cream pie at the Mayor.

Tail, Pass, Class

Barky wagged his tail as I prepared to enter the school bus. How could I leave while my precious black lab puppy was urging me to stay? How could I pass up spending the day with my beautiful, playful buddy?  

"In or out, kiddo?" the bus driver urged. "C'mon, I ain't got all day!"

My best friend, Wally, shouted from an open bus window, "You have to go, Daz! We got that big test in Mrs. Comer's English class! It's a quarter of the final grade!"

I coughed spectacularly, bent down as if a big ol' barf was coming. The bus driver pulled back in horror, slamming the bus door. 

"Sorry, Wally! I'll just have to make it up later!"

Barky and I retreated up the dirt driveway to our farmhouse. Some days were too valuable to waste sitting in a stuffy classroom.

Colony, Represent, Plastic

He planted the flag on the beach with dramatic flourish. "I hereby, in the name of the Queen of Pazoria, declare this island a colony of her Majesty, to forewith forever to be known as Rojeci Island!'

The native watching this was slightly miffed. "I'm sorry, Sir, whoever you are. You do realize that this island nation is already occupied?"

The Admiral, Sir Wallace Beery, looked down at the short native, sniffed, and said, with great regal disdain, "Who...are...you?"

The native puffed up, standing firm. "I am Dazman, and I represent the peoples of this island. We have been here for millennia, and categorically reject your impertinent colonization!"

"Do you?" roared the Admiral. "I reject your ignorant nativism! Don't you realize what advances we can bring to you?"

"What? Like plastic?" queried Dazman, pointing to the plastic skiffs that bore the Pazorian Navy's advance team. "Plastic just poisons and ruins the environment, don't you know?"

"You reject all advances. I've had enough of this nonsense!" warned Sir Beery. "Take aim, men!"

"Well, we don't reject all advances," assured Dazman. "For instance, we are very keen on catapults."

Before the Pazorians could fire, rocks rained down on them.

Thus ended the foreign occupation of the short-lived reign of Rojeci Island.

Well, anyhoo, it's a start.